There Is No Going Back
by Ieatvampiresforbreakfast
Summary: This story is not a tenth walker, she is not a Mary Sue. It isn't about a girl who falls into middle earth, its the story of a woman letting go, sacrificing for the greater good, loving and losing, getting hurt and healing. A woman from our time ends up on the boarders of Lothlorien and bears an uncanny resemblance to Galadriel's daughter. Full summary inside.


**A/N: **Hello everybody!

This story is not exactly a tenth walker and my character is definitely not a Mary Sue. It isnt a romance or action story really. This story isn't about a girl who falls into middle earth, its the story of a woman letting go, sacrificing for the greater good, loving and losing, getting hurt and healing. A woman from our time finds herself on the outskirts of Lothlorien and when she meets the Elven Queen she always admired in the movie more secrets are reviled. She is the image of Celebrian, Galadriel's daughter who was killed by orcs many years ago. She joins the fellowship for a time but is captured...

**There Is No Going Back **

**Chapter 1: Weddings and Vacations**

Today of all days I should have been happy, I should have been exstatic that my two best friends in the whole world were getting married, the tears I was crying should have been of joy not sadness. The irony was not lost on me, I was forced by social convention to be a supportive friend and maid of honor yet all these years I have been the most trusted confidant of both and have grown to love one as a sister and the other even more deeply. For the man who stood at the altar was the one person I have ever met who was able to make me feel whole and at the same time empty.

The pianist situated at the side of the altar began to play and I knew that this is the introduction to the greatest performance I would ever play. All eyes were on us as we began the slow walk down the isle to the boy, now grown into a man, who looked back with love in his eyes, but love not meant for me. I fixed a radiant smile on my face and my only respite was the thought that this pain would soon be over. I continued to play my part in the perfect tableau and though no inkling of my true feelings ever seeped into my expression on the inside I screamed and wished that this whole life was a dream and that tomorrow morning I would wake up in my New York apartment and look across the skyline as I do when I drink my typical cappachino. After finishing my drink I would shower and dress and go to the office wearing an expensive Gucci suit and Valentino shirt. I would meet up with Liz for lunch and we would talk about the lack of interesting men and maybe even prank call Alex. They would not be off on their honeymoon and life would continue as it always had. I had almost everything a normal 25 year old could want. I had an extremely well paid job; I was a sociological annalist in retail which basically involved me looking at the way consumers react to certain products e.t.c. I was gifted; I left high school at fifteen and am an underage graduate of Stanford University with a degree in Social Sciences, I had an amazing home; I lived in a penthouse overlooking central park.

But now I was broken, ripped apart by what I could only call betrayal. With barely a word my entire world had come crashing down and my friends had left me to pick up the pieces which I could not do. I was broken, trapped under a pile of rubble which had fallen on me through no fault of my own. I was caged. I was a wild thing hunted and trapped by cruel hands and cruel words.

When I eventually came to, I slowly realized that I was at the wrong end of my bed. I was lying as skew-whiff as it is possible to be, with my blonde hair flowing like a river off one corner and the bottom half of my leg in a crooked, un-natural position dangling off the bed. I could not trust my past self to look on Facebook to see what photos were taken of me last night. After a little longer moping I got up and fiddled with the shower. It became a silent battle but eventually piping hot water ran through and scorched my bare skin. The pain on the outside helps take my mind off the torment and self loathing happening on the inside. I stayed crouched in the bottom of the shower cubicle for what seemed like hours but what was, in fact, mere minutes. I watched condensation build up on the glass and become droplets of water which joined together and trickled down the glass sheet like diamonds spilling down a mirror. I thought to myself 'In a moment i'll get up and everything will be okay. In a moment it will stop hurting.

The theme of the week seemed to hold and the world did not simply stop hurting. I had a dull ache in my chest that had been there ever since Alex showed me the ring he bought for Liz. I got dressed and as I don't have to be going out today I simply wear some jeans, a t shirt and grey leather boots. With no idea what I wanted to eat or what time it was I absent mindedly switch on the T.V. The lady behind the desk for Fox News was reporting about some hippies who had chained themselves to trees in Brazil and so I flicked the channel. I wasn't sure what station this was but at that moment they were showing what I guessed to be the first Lord of the Rings movie. That film was the first thing to bring a genuine smile to my face for weeks. I remember watching this with Alex as a little girl and wishing that the T.V. Would gobble me up so that I could go on the quest with the Fellowship. I actually laughed at this silliness and was about to stand up and make myself some coffee when I thought about what I could do instead of being absorbed in my lonesomeness. Before I really knew what I was doing I was scrambling about my lovely penthouse, making a mess and knocking things over.

It was only Saturday morning and I had booked half of the next week off anyway so it didn't matter when I got back. I went back into my bedroom and grabbed a large hiking rucksack off the top of my wardrobe, then my hand grasped a sleeping bag and ground mat. These were hastily stuffed into the bag. I took more care with a different possession, I slid open the draw in my bedside cabinet and pulled out a heavy German handgun which I bought in a gun shop a few years back after there was a murder in my block. Since then I'd trained with it regularly until I could shoot with an accuracy even a Marine would be proud of. I placed the gun in my bag's inside pocket with a box of bullets and hoped that I wouldn't need them. My intention was to take a break from city life and spend a weekend walking in the forest and untouched land of my early childhood growing up in Houghton, which is a small city in the Northern tip of Michigan. I'd lived there until I was five and my parents divorced, then I moved with my Mom to the Upper East Side. I had no intention of seeing my Dad again, I remember the excruciating summers I spent there, the only reason I ever consented to go was because of the lush forest that surrounded Dad's house there. It had always seemed to be hiding a secret in the dense woodland and even when I was fifteen it still felt like you could look around a tree trunk and see fairies or elves. I was done ransacking my bedroom and so my gaze turned to the kitchen. I seized some tinned ham, two packs of filling water biscuits, a bag of apples and of course three bottles of purified water. Despite the supplies I packed I decided to take a special water bottle which filters water as you drink it. The food I had packed didn't sound like much but at that time of year the forest was blooming with all kinds of berries and fruits not to mention animals. I knew my way around lots of the forest in the Northern point like I knew my way around Manhattan. I checked that I had everything, left a brief note for the cleaning lady telling her that I'd gone on vacation and did the same via text for my friends and Mom. Now finally all set to go I stood there, on the verge, wondering if I really should go. Strangely my last thought before I walked out of my apartment was weather I would ever see it again. Little did I know that this concern was actually very reasonable.

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